


Dinner for Two

by sam_gamgee



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-15
Updated: 2010-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-13 16:54:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sam_gamgee/pseuds/sam_gamgee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kowalski wants to thank Fraser, but things don’t go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner for Two

**Author's Note:**

  * For [exbex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/exbex/gifts).



> Many thanks to Marianne for the great beta.

“Welcome to Canada!”

“Hey, Turnbull,” Ray Kowalski said as he entered the Consulate. “Is Fraser here?”

“He, unfortunately, is not. He and Detective Vecchio are out following up on some leads,” Turnbull replied brightly. “May I take a message for him? Or is there something I could possibly help you with?”

“Actually, you could,” Ray answered, leaning against the desk. “I want to do something nice for Fraser to thank him for our adventure. And I was thinking about making him dinner, except I can’t cook and I know that he’d eat whatever I made to be polite – but I don’t want him to, you know, die from food poisoning. And I heard from Frannie that you’re some sort of master chef. So I was wondering if you could teach me how to cook and maybe show me how to make a few things Fraser likes. I’ll pay for the food and give you whatever you think is good for your time.”

“I’d be delighted!” Turnbull said, grinning. “When did you want to have the dinner? And is it going to be just the two of you or will there be others joining you as well?”

“It’ll just be me and Fraser and I’d like to do it sooner rather than later, since we’ve been back for a while.”

Turnbull nodded thoughtfully. “Tonight I’ll look through my cookbooks and make note of a few things to present to you and I shall meet you tomorrow at the precinct at lunchtime?”

“Sounds great.” Ray stood, hearing the door open. “Thanks, Turnbull. Hey, Fraser. Hey, Vecchio. Got any leads on that burglary?”

“We just finished it up,” Vecchio replied. “And even after all these years, Fraser licking things he shouldn’t is still nasty.”

Ray grimaced in sympathy and headed out, saying, “I’ll see you guys later.”

 

The next day, Turnbull showed up promptly at noon. He easily navigated through the chaos of the room, stopping long enough to talk to Frannie about something that made her laugh and smack him on the arm, before joining Ray at his desk on the opposite side of the bullpen from Vecchio’s desk.

“Got something?” Ray asked, eyeing the Mountie, worried at what he was going to propose.

Turnbull nodded. “I think I’ve found a few things that you’ll be able to make. Did you want to do this here, or did you want to go someplace else?”

“Let’s go somewhere else,” Ray said, standing. “I get enough flack as it is, I’d rather not add to it by having one of the guys overhear us.”

Sitting in a booth at the diner across the street a few minutes later, Ray said, “Okay, so what’d you find?”

“I was thinking pan-fried steaks and potatoes gratine,” Turnbull said, pulling some papers out of the manila envelope he’d brought with him. “The steaks can be marinated the night before – which will give them a nice flavor. Add a salad, a vegetable and some bread, and you’ve got a nice meal. And I found a few dessert recipes as well – all using fresh fruit.” He handed the papers over to Ray.

Ray flipped through the recipes for potatoes and a couple of different marinades, as well as the mentioned dessert recipes, surprised that the recipes seemed simple, but the included pictures looked good. “These look good,” he said. “Thanks.”

The waitress brought their food and they ate quietly for a few minutes. “How’d you get into cooking?” Ray finally asked.

Turnbull shrugged. “As you know, Canadian winters can be long and boring. I was an energetic child and I think my mother was tired of trying to find things that would hold my attention for more than five minutes. One day she made me help her make dinner and she was making the entire thing from scratch – including the bread. I found I enjoyed doing it and being able to enjoy the fruits of my labor at the end was a welcome prize as well. And having both of my parents praise my efforts was also an upside. What?” he asked at Ray’s bemused look.

“Nothing,” Ray replied with a chuckle and a shake of his head and ate a french fry. “So when can we start?”

“Whenever you’d like,” Turnbull replied.

“How about tonight?” Ray asked.

Turnbull thought for a moment, before nodding. “I believe that would be feasible,” he responded. “Would you like to do it at your place or mine?”

“Let’s do it at mine,” Ray replied. “I’m going to be doing it there anyway, so may as well use my stuff, right?”

“That is an excellent point,” Turnbull replied. “Would you like me to bring the food and then you reimburse me, or would you like to get the food yourself?”

“How about you get it this time, and you can explain it to me?”

Turnbull nodded. “That would probably be for the best. I think you’ll enjoy this, Detective Kowalski.”

“I certainly hope so, Turnbull.”

“Please, call me Renfield.”

“Renfield?” Ray asked in surprise. “Were your parents crazy?”

“Probably,” Turnbull replied, without any hint of anger. “But they did love Victorian literature.”

“Can I call you Ren or Renny instead? Or your middle name? And if I’m going to call you by your first name, you can call me Ray.”

“You can call me whatever you’d like, Ray.”

“Okay, Ren. What time do you get done at the Consulate?”

“Six pm. What time do you get done at the precinct?”

Ray shrugged. “It depends. But I should be able to get out around then. Remind me to give you the address when we get back.”

Walking back to the station, Ray couldn’t believe this was actually happening. He’d rejected a lot of ideas for how to show Fraser his gratitude for a variety of reasons, but cooking for him had felt right – probably because of how much Ray had relied on Fraser to cook and provide the food for them while they were out in the wilderness.

And Turnbull was turning out to be a surprisingly good companion. Ray had worried things would be awkward, but the other man had more self-possession that Ray had expected and wasn’t as much of a flighty klutz as Ray had remembered. Granted, most of his issues could be concentrated in the times Ray saw him, but he doubted it.

Back at his desk, Ray jotted his address down on a post-it and handed it to Turnbull. “Think you can find it?” he asked.

Turnbull looked at the address. “I believe so. But I shall consult a map, just to make sure.” He stuck the post-it to his envelope. “I hope the meeting was as enjoyable for you as it was for me, Ray,” he said.

“Yeah, it was good. Thanks, Ren,” Ray replied. He watched the other man leave before scowling at Huey and Dewey. “What?” he barked.

They both shook their heads before returning to their work.

Ray spent the afternoon doing paperwork and finishing up case reports. Promptly at six, he grabbed his jacket and dumped the last of the paperwork in the bin on Frannie’s desk on his way out. He thanked his good fortune for light traffic when he pulled into a parking spot behind his building and hurried up to his apartment.

After stripping off his jacket and hanging it up, he turned on his stereo and tuned it to quietly play a jazz station before quickly consolidated the few days’ worth of newspapers from the coffee table, then washed the dishes in the sink and, as an afterthought, wiped down the counters and the table. He quickly surveyed his bedroom, then decided it wasn’t necessary, and simply shut the door. He was debating cleaning the bathroom when there was a knock on the door.

He quickly opened the door to find Turnbull on the other side laden with bags. “Good evening, Ray,” he said sunnily as he entered.

“Hey, Ren,” Ray replied. “Find your way okay?”

Turnbull went into the kitchen and set the bags down on the table. “Oh, yes, it was surprisingly easy and there’s a bus stop just down the street.”

“You took public transit?” Ray asked, shocked, as Turnbull shrugged off his coat and hung it on the back of a chair before unpacking the bags.

“Of course. It’s an easy and economical way to get around the city. And you meet a lot of interesting people that way.”

“Freaks, you mean,” Ray replied. Shaking his head in amusement, he said, “I swear, between you and Fraser, I don’t know who’s crazier. Or maybe Canadians in general are crazy?”

“I wouldn’t know, Ray. They all seem pretty normal to me.”

Ray laughed. “Of course they would, Ren. So what’ve we got here?”

Turnbull went through all the items he’d laid out on the table. “We’ll let the meat marinade while we’re preparing the other items,” he finally said. “You won’t get as full a flavor as if you’d done it overnight, but it’ll give you an idea of what they’ll taste like.”

“Okay,” Ray replied. He was surprised that he had all the cooking utensils on hand that Turnbull asked for. Then he remembered his mom had had her way in his kitchen the last time his parents had visited, so he guessed it shouldn’t be surprised that it was now stocked with everything a bachelor would need to cook with.

It wasn’t until Turnbull started showing Ray how to make the marinade that Ray realized Turnbull had changed out of his uniform at some point and was wearing a pair of jeans, hiking boots, and a long-sleeved plaid flannel shirt. And he looked good. Ray shook his head to clear it and returned his focus to what Turnbull was doing, ignoring the questioning look Turnbull threw at him.

Once they had the meat marinating in a dish in the refrigerator, Turnbull began teaching him the basics of the other dishes. Unlike previous times when he tried to learn how to cook, Ray found he enjoyed listening to Turnbull and following his instructions. As the dishes began to take shape, they grinned at each other.

“You’re doing an excellent job, Ray,” Turnbull said when they put the potatoes in the oven and set the timer. “I think you should be very proud of yourself.”

Ray couldn’t help blushing. “Thanks, Ren. Though, I think it’s more you than me, really.”

“Let’s call it a draw and say it’s both of us.”

“What do we do now?”

“We have a little bit of time while the potatoes bake before we can start the steaks. We can open the bottle of wine, if you’d like, or leave it until dinner.”

“Let’s leave it. I’d like to be completely sober for the steaks.”

Turnbull chuckled. “All right. I believe there’s a curling game on tonight – if you’ve warmed up to the game at all.”

“Still haven’t,” Ray replied with a shake of his head. “Besides, I don’t have a TV.”

Turnbull seemed surprised. “Really? I figured you would to watch baseball.”

Ray made a face. “The reception was crappy. And I think Fraser rubbed off on me more ways than I thought. When we got back, I realized I’d rather read about it in the paper than have to deal with a fuzzy picture.”

“Okay. Well, we could talk.”

The radio came back from a commercial break and Ray recognized the song. “Or we could,” he looked down at the floor, “dance. If you want – but we don’t have to.”

“Dance?” Turnbull asked in surprise.

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “But it was a stupid idea.”

“It’s not a stupid idea, Ray. I’m just surprised. I’m sorry, but I didn’t expect it to be a talent you possessed.”

“It was something my mother taught me,” Ray told him. “And Stella and I loved doing it. I haven’t done it much since she and I divorced. Sometimes I think I miss the dancing more than I miss her.”

“It’s interesting the things we remember when a relationship is broken off,” Turnbull agreed. “I remember when I was small, I had a friend and we had a big fight that ended our friendship and I think I missed his baseball cards more than I missed him. I realize it’s not the same as a divorce, but I can understand the underlying sentiment.”

“You amaze me sometimes, you know that,” Ray said.

“How’s that, Ray?” Turnbull asked.

“You just – you seem like such an idiot and a klutz most of the time when you’re on-duty, but there are other times – like at lunch earlier, and now – when you seem, well, normal.”

Turnbull laughed. “We all have reasons for the things we do, Ray, and most of them can be boiled down to self-preservation.”

“Bad incident out in the field, then, and you’re using it to stick to desk duty?” Ray asked.

“No, actually – more of a self-fulfilling prophecy, actually with an early commanding officer. And I think that Inspector Thatcher just didn’t like me very much. Constable – Inspector Fraser has been surprisingly different about the whole thing, though. He’s of the mind that I must be competent if I’ve become a Mountie and stayed among the ranks, and he’s treating me as such.” Turnbull looked sheepish. “And it’s making it harder and harder for me to pretend that I’m the village idiot when I want to prove to him that I am as capable as he is trusting me to be.”

“That’s admirable, Ren,” Ray replied. “I know Fraser has a knack for seeing the best in people, even when they can’t see it in themselves – I know he did with me. And I’ll always be grateful for that.” The timer dinged. “I guess the dancing will have to wait.”

“I’ll gladly take a rain check,” Turnbull said as they stood. Ray took the potatoes out and they checked them. “They look good,” Turnbull said approvingly. “Now let’s see what we can do about those steaks.”

Ray took the meat out of the refrigerator and followed Turnbull’s careful steps for heating the pan and coating it with oil. When Turnbull instructed, he carefully placed the meat in the pan and watched it start sizzling. Ray closely watched the meat as Turnbull bustled around the kitchen, looking for the necessary items to set the table, then to heat the vegetables in the microwave.

“Okay, I believe you can flip them now,” Turnbull told Ray and watched as Ray did so. With a satisfied nod, he said, “They look good. Where’s your bottle opener?”

“In the drawer over there,” Ray motioned with his hip.

Turnbull opened the bottle of wine and set it on the table along with the salad. “If the smells are anything to go on, we’re going to be eating a great meal, Ray. And it’s all thanks to you.”

Ray blushed. “You did most of the work.”

“On the contrary, I’ve actually done minimal work. It’s all been you. My mother always thought I learned better by actually doing, and I’ve found it’s a good form of teaching. When people realize that there are real consequences to what they’re doing, they’re more willing to listen and strive for success.”

“Maybe you should’ve been a teacher instead of a Mountie,” Ray replied with a warm smile.

“Possibly,” Turnbull replied. “It may be something I turn to when I retire. As much as I enjoy it, I prefer being a Mountie.” Testing the steaks, he said, “See how the meat feels when you press the tongs against it? Any softer, and it’s not done. Firmer, and it’s too done. If it’s like this, then it’s just right.” Ray tested the steaks as well and nodded as Turnbull continued, “And you don’t want to cut the steaks to check them while they’re cooking – it messes up them cooking evenly. So you can shut off the stove and bring the pan over and put one on each plate.”

Ray did as he was instructed. “What else do we need?” he asked, putting the pan back on the stove.

“The potatoes?” Turnbull asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh!” Ray quickly grabbed the potatoes and put them on the table. He sat and listened to Turnbull’s instructions on presentation and the wine before they started eating.

“This is very good, Ray,” Turnbull said after a few bites each of the steak and potatoes. “You should be very proud of yourself.”

“Yeah, I’m feeling pretty proud of myself at the moment,” Ray agreed. “Do you think Fraser would like this?”

“I do,” Turnbull replied with a nod. “But I will admit that he does tend to enjoy a wide variety of foods, so it wouldn’t be hard to cook for him.”

“Thanks for doing this, Turnbull,” Ray said. “And let me know what I owe you.”

Turnbull nodded. “I’ll give you the receipt and you can reimburse me from that. As for the cooking lesson, my payment will be telling me how it goes when you do cook for Inspector Fraser, and a dance.”

“Are you sure?” Ray asked. “You don’t even want money for bus fare?”

Turnbull shook his head. “It’s been an enjoyable evening out, Ray – something I don’t get often. I’m willing to sacrifice a few dollars for the wonderful company.”

As they finished cleaning up, Turnbull asked, “Do you feel confident doing this on your own, or do you want another lesson?”

“I’m not sure,” Ray replied. “You made it seem so easy – and I feel pretty comfortable doing it, but I’m still not completely sure I’ll be able to do it.”

“Then how about a trial run?” At Ray’s questioning glance, he said, “You cook the meal for me – completely on your own – and I’ll let you know how you do and then you can see if you’re ready to do it for Inspector Fraser.”

“I think you can call him just Fraser or Benton or whatever, considering you’re off-duty,” Ray commented in amusement. “I’m sure he does the same with you when he’s not working.”

“If he even thinks about me at all,” Turnbull replied quietly. “I tend not to rate very high in other people’s esteem.”

“Their loss, then,” Ray said as he dried the frying pan. “You seem like a pretty cool guy.”

Turnbull blushed at that. “Thank you, Ray. Your sincerity means a lot to me.”

“Hey, no problem. I know what it’s like to have people misjudge you most of the time.” Putting the last of the dishes away and hanging up the towel to dry, he said, “So let me see the receipt.” Turnbull handed it over and Ray let out a low whistle. “Okay, that was a little more than I was expecting, but if you want to have a good meal.... And the sad thing is, it’s still less than if I took him out to eat. I don’t have this much on me, so can I give it to you next time?”

“Of course, Ray. It’s not a problem. When did you want to do your trial run?”

Glancing at his calendar, Ray said, “What about this weekend – Friday night? That way you’ll have time to correct me and I can do this for Fraser before the holiday craziness gets into full-swing.”

“That would work,” Turnbull said, nodding in agreement.

“Now, about that dance. Now or do you want to wait?”

“I’d like to do it now, if you don’t mind – mostly in an ‘I’ve shown you mine, now you show me yours’ sort of way.”

Ray laughed. “I can do that.” They went out into the living room and Ray pushed the coffee table against the couch and turned up the radio. Turning to Turnbull, he suddenly felt nervous. It’d been a long time since he danced with anyone – and it would be the first time with another man.

“Are you all right, Ray?” Turnbull asked.

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” Ray replied, mentally shaking himself off. “It’s just been a long time, you know? Okay, let’s do this.”

He held out a hand and Turnbull took it and came easily when Ray pulled him in. Ray was surprised at how easy and comfortable it felt once they started moving together, the steps coming naturally to him and Turnbull easily followed his lead. It was odd having someone a few inches taller and broader than he was in his arms, instead of the more petite Stella, but Ray found it felt just as natural. They easily moved from one song to the next. At the end of the first full song, Ray twirled Turnbull out with a flourish, then pulled him back in, before stepping away.

“Thank you, Ray,” Turnbull said. “That was a lot of fun and you really are a good dancer. I should be going – we both do have work tomorrow.”

Ray nodded. “Do the buses run this late? Or do you need a ride?”

“I should be fine,” Turnbull replied. “There’s still a few before the buses shut down for the night.” Putting on his coat, he said, “So I shall see you Friday, then. What time?”

“How about seven? That way I’ll have time to get home and cook dinner?” Ray asked as he walked Turnbull to the door.

“Sounds great. I had a wonderful time tonight, Ray. Good night.”

“Good night, Ren.”

Ray watched him walk down the hall before closing the door and leaning back against it. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It had been an innocent enough evening, so why did he feel like he was out of his depth?

He sighed, closing his eyes and remembering the feel of Turnbull’s body against his, surprised at how much he’d enjoyed it.

He snapped his eyes open. What the hell was wrong with him? How could he go for months of seeing Fraser in various states of dress and undress (and even naked on a couple of occasions) and feel _nothing_ , and yet, a very ordinary, domestic evening of cooking and dancing with Turnbull made him wish for the possibility of doing something more – even though he knew it would never happen. What was the difference between the two of them?

Was it because of having to impersonate Vecchio for so long with Fraser? Or was there something else? He knew attraction didn’t always work the way you wanted – there had always been girls, and then women, who were interested in him and he wished he could be interested in them, but felt nothing, and there were others who he was interested in that had no interest in him. And there had always been the occasional guy.

The first time it’d happened in high school, he’d been scared to death. He didn’t know what to think or do and the worry and fear at being caught had actually made him sick. If it hadn’t been for his English teacher – a hippie-ish woman whom everyone loved – pulling him aside after class one day, he didn’t know what would have happened. She’d made him talk about it and made him feel like he wasn’t actually crazy, and he was pretty sure she had saved his life.

But, over the years, it hadn’t happened often and the few times it did, Ray had never done anything about it – or wanted to until now. And, oddly enough, this time he’d done something and then felt the attraction. Was that supposed to mean something?

He shook his head and pushed himself away from the door. He doubted there was any way he’d get an honest answer out of himself and there was no way he’d mention it to anyone else – and especially not to Turnbull. The Mountie had been one of the few people who had always treated him as himself, even when he was pretending to be Vecchio – which had been one of the few things that had kept him from going crazy during the whole ordeal. Fraser had been great about it too, the few times they’d had a chance to let their guards down, but he knew that Fraser had taken the whole thing really hard.

He sighed and picked up the book he was reading off the coffee table and slouched down on the couch to read and for a while he was able to lose himself in the story before sleepiness made him turn towards his bed.

After showering and brushing his teeth, Ray looked at his bed longingly, wishing for the millionth time that there was someone sharing it with him.

 

Thursday came and Ray took the receipt Turnbull had given him and went to the same grocery store. It took him a while to decipher the register abbreviations, but he was finally able to find all the items that they’d used before, though he forewent the potatoes, knowing there were still enough at the apartment.

When he got home, he carefully read through the necessary recipes Turnbull had left with him and made the marinade and put it in a dish with the meat and stored the whole thing in the bottom of the refrigerator. Then he made the dessert – a fruit-custard-tart thing that he would normally consider too frou-frou, but he secretly liked – and put it in the refrigerator to set.

Then he thoroughly cleaned the apartment, knowing in the back of his mind that he was going far beyond what he probably needed to, but he wanted to prove to Turnbull, and more importantly himself, that he was serious about all of this.

Friday evening, he was barely able to slip out of the precinct at six o’clock, the holiday craziness seeming to have started early, and made his way home. Once in his apartment, he took a deep breath and willed himself to relax. Regardless of what had happened earlier in the week, it was just dinner. There was no reason for him to read anything more into that night. Wanting to calm his nerves, but not trusting himself with alcohol while cooking, he turned on his stereo before going into the kitchen.

After reading through the other recipes, he lined up all the ingredients he’d need on the counter and set to work. He jumped when there was a knock on the door and almost dropped the finished potatoes. He carefully set them on the counter and went to open the door.

“Right on time,” he said to Turnbull. “Welcome.”

“Thank you. It smells wonderful,” Turnbull said. “I brought some wine,” he said, handing it over before shrugging out of his coat and hanging it next to Ray’s.

“Thanks,” Ray said. “And I haven’t burnt anything yet, but I was just about to start the steaks, so there’s still a chance. Would you like this wine or the other? I bought another bottle of the stuff you got last time. And I think we still have a little left over from before.”

“I’ll leave it up to you,” Turnbull said, following him into the kitchen.

“Let’s open this one,” Ray said, setting it on the counter and uncorking it. After setting it aside, he turned to the potatoes to check them. “How’ve you been?”

“Very well, thank you,” Turnbull said, sitting at the kitchen table. “We have a new constable at the Consulate – just out of the Academy. I think he’s got a lot of potential, but he’s very green.”

“Sounds interesting,” Ray said distractedly as he started warming the pan.

“It should prove so,” Turnbull agreed. “He survived his first day of guard duty very well.”

Ray laughed. “Is that a note of diplomacy, I hear?” he asked.

“Quite possibly,” Turnbull admitted with a small smile. “He didn’t complain, so I think that’s a mark in his favor.”

Ray turned his attention to the steaks and a few minutes later served up the meal. “Hope this is as good as the other night,” he said, pouring a glass of wine for them both.

“It looks and smells wonderful, Ray. I’m sure it’ll taste so.”

“Do you always flatter everyone so much?” Ray teased.

“Only those I like,” Turnbull admitted.

Ray blushed, and wanted to know what he meant by that, but instead put a forkful of steak in his mouth.

“This is delicious, Ray,” Turnbull told him. “I believe you’re ready to cook for Fraser.”

“Good. Now I just need a way to ask him over without it sounding really weird.”

“I think direct honesty would be the easiest. And it’s not at all ‘really weird’. You simply tell him that you wish to show your appreciation for what he’s done for you, and would like to do it by cooking dinner for him.”

“You think it’d be that easy? What if he turns me down?”

“I doubt he will, Ray. At the very least, I’m sure his politeness and curiosity will get the better of him and he’ll accept the invitation.”

“If he doesn’t, I’ll find a way to get you back.”

“And I’m sure that with your imagination and ingenuity, it will be something formidable. I’ll be looking forward to it either way. How are things down at the precinct?”

“Good. Well, if you want to call the holiday craziness good. If it’s supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year, why are people so awful to each other?”

“I believe that’s one of the eternal conundrums. Are you going to visit your parents this year for Christmas?”

“I don’t know yet. I think they’re still travelling around and I haven’t heard from them in a while. I did just see them for Thanksgiving, so.... I don’t know. They’ll probably go to my brother’s. We weren’t big on holidays for a long time. What about you?”

“I don’t know yet. My parents died while I was in the Academy and I was an only child and never close to any of my extended family. I may stay here and see what an American Christmas is like.”

Ray focused on his food for a long moment, debating whether or not to offer. “Maybe… maybe we could do something? Not, you know, anything huge – or even buying gifts for each other, but maybe spend part of the day together?”

“I think I would like that, Ray. I could cook for you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

Turnbull rolled his eyes. “I doubt that would be considered an imposition. From the way it sounds, we’re both going to be alone for the holiday and I rarely get the chance to cook for someone else. It would be a pleasure.”

They lingered over wine after they finished cleaning up. “It seems like you have a fondness for jazz,” Turnbull commented.

“If you don’t like it, I can change it,” Ray said.

“No, it’s fine,” Turnbull replied with a small smile. “I was just trying to make conversation.” He paused for a moment. “Or we could dance again, if you’d like. I very much enjoyed it the last time.”

“We don’t have to,” Ray said. “You don’t need to be polite.”

“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have said it,” Turnbull countered. He stood and offered Ray his hand. “May I have this dance?”

Ray laughed and stood. “Well, when you put it like that...” He took Turnbull’s hand and led him into the living room. “Do you want to lead this time?”

“I’ll leave that up to you, Ray. I’m comfortable doing either.”

Ray shook his head in amusement as he took Turnbull in his arms. “You’re definitely something else, Ren. You can’t seem to stop surprising me.”

“What fun would it be if you knew everything about someone right away?”

Ray began to lead them. “That’s true. But sometimes I think it would be easier if you knew everything up front, that way you couldn’t get hurt – like I was with Stella.”

“That may be true, but I’m sure there are moments that you shared with her that made it worthwhile.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“I hope you’re enjoying getting to know me.”

Ray blushed and laughed. From anyone else, he would think they were fishing for a compliment, but he knew Turnbull was being completely sincere. “Yeah, I am, Ren. I am. You’re like – you’re like my own personal Mountie.” Turnbull raised an eyebrow and Ray quickly continued, “It’s something Vecchio said when he came back – about getting his Mountie back.”

“Ah, I see. I wouldn’t mind being your personal Mountie, Ray, if you wouldn’t mind being my detective.”

Ray laughed again. “We’re as crazy as a pair of loons. I don’t think I’d mind.”

Turnbull seemed pleased at that and they danced quietly for a few minutes. Then Ray happened to look up at Turnbull’s face and Turnbull smiled softly and the air seemed to charge between them.

“Ren?” Ray asked quietly.

“Yes, Ray?” Turnbull replied just as softly.

“Could I – could I kiss you?”

“If you’d like, Ray.”

They slowed until they were hardly moving and Ray reached up and gently cupped Turnbull’s face. Pulling him down, Ray tentatively kissed Turnbull. It was odd kissing someone taller than him, but it felt just as good as all the times he’d kissed Stella. He could taste the wine and fruit from dinner on Turnbull, as well as something that he could only describe as Turnbull. Turnbull was enjoying it as well, from the way he was pressing against Ray’s body. Turnbull moaned softly into Ray’s mouth and Ray quickly broke off the kiss.

“Are you all right, Ray?” Turnbull asked, confused.

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” Ray replied. “Just fine. Just surprised. I’ve – I’ve never done that with another guy.”

“Never?” Turnbull asked in surprise and Ray shook his head.

“Never. Sorry – I guess I just got caught up in the moment there.”

“There’s no need to apologize, Ray. We both did and I enjoyed it. And you’re sure you’re all right? You look a little pale.”

Ray took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I don’t know what got into me.”

“Would you like me to go?” Turnbull asked, concerned.

“Yes. No. Oh, I don’t know.” Ray plopped down on the couch. “I thought you were supposed to have an identity crisis when you’re in your fifties or something, not in your thirties.”

“It can happen at any time and for any reason,” Turnbull reassured, sitting down next to him. “And I doubt you’re the first person this has happened to.”

“Yeah, but no one else has probably done it this way. Sure, I can objectively admit that a guy’s good-looking, but I didn’t even think I was attracted to you until the other night when you were over. I’ve seen Fraser naked, for God’s sake, and I know him a lot better than you but nothing happened there and then you and I make fucking dinner together and I find you attractive. What’s up with that?”

Turnbull shrugged. “It happens when you least expect it. Would it help you if I say that I myself am attracted to you? And that I’m not saying it just to make you feel better.”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Ray scrubbed his face with his hands and sighed. “I’m not going crazy, am I?”

“Not any faster than you were before dinner,” Turnbull said with a reassuring smile and Ray laughed.

“Good one, Ren.”

Ray stared at Turnbull for a long moment, enjoying the features that had become familiar to him. Then Turnbull was leaning in and kissing Ray – gently at first, then with a growing hunger, pushing him back against the couch as he placed a hand on Ray’s chest and sought entrance into his mouth. Ray eagerly returned the hungry kiss, tangling his hands in Turnbull’s hair. When he finally pulled away, Ray found it hard for him to focus and he was starting to get aroused. And from the looks of it, Turnbull wasn’t much better.

“I’d like to make love to you, Ray,” Turnbull said quietly, his hand still on Ray’s chest.

“Yeah, um, okay,” Ray replied, dropping his hands into his lap, then laughed. “That was real clear, wasn’t it?”

“It sounded good to me,” Turnbull replied. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know. I’m still trying to get my head around the fact that I just kissed a guy and I liked it.”

“Understood, Ray.”

Ray laughed. “Fraser said that a lot. Sorry – I shouldn’t be thinking about him right now, especially when my Mountie’s right here.”

“It’s understandable, Ray. The two of you worked closely for two years and then went on an adventure together, I’d be surprised if you didn’t get to know each other quite well. But you still haven’t answered my question.”

“I don’t know how to answer your question, Ren,” Ray replied. “The part of me that hasn’t gotten laid in a _long _time is completely agreeing, but the rest of me is worrying that this will make me gay.”__

 _“One homosexual act will not make you ‘gay’, Ray. Nor will a few, necessarily. And I believe a more proper term would be ‘bisexual’.”_

 _Ray laughed. “It’s always a technicality with you guys, isn’t it? Oh, what the hell, sure. Let’s do it. What can we do?”_

 _“All sorts of things – hand jobs, blowjobs, fucking.”_

 _Ray laughed heartily. “Sorry, but for some reason, you saying ‘fucking’ just seems wrong. It’s like my grandmother saying it or something. If we keep talking about it, I might talk myself out of it. Let’s do it.”_

 _Turnbull nodded and took Ray’s hand in his and pulled him toward the bedroom. “I want you to be comfortable and enjoy it your first time,” he said. “And I don’t think that couch would be the best place to achieve that.”_

 _“Yeah, okay,” Ray replied, suddenly feeling really shy. “I don’t know if I can do this, Ren. I just –”_

 _Turnbull closed the distance between them and captured Ray’s mouth with his. He kissed him gently, but Ray could still feel the desire Turnbull was feeling come across loud and clear. And Ray could feel himself respond to Turnbull’s body pressed against his. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Ray,” he reassured. “We can just take this slow and see how it goes.”_

 _“Yeah, okay,” Ray nodded, swallowing hard. “Have you done this often?”_

 _“A few times,” Turnbull admitted. “Enough to know what I like and how to please my partner.”_

 _“How many of them were with serious partners?”_

 _“Promise you won’t let things get weird between us if it doesn’t work out?”_

 _“Promise. You’re a good man, Ray Kowalski, and I’m grateful that you’re trusting me with this. May I undress you?”_

 _“Yeah, I guess so.”_

 _Turnbull took his time, kneeling and starting with Ray’s shoes and socks. Then he stood and took off Ray’s polo shirt. He smiled and lightly caressed over Ray’s arms and shoulders before pulling the hem of Ray’s undershirt free from his pants and up over his head. Ray crossed his arms in front of him, suddenly uncomfortable with the way Turnbull was looking at him._

 _“You’re very good-looking, Ray,” Turnbull told him._

 _“I’m scrawny,” Ray replied._

 _“You’re wiry,” Turnbull refuted, before kissing him again, lightly caressing his back._

 _Then he reached between them and opened Ray’s jeans. He slipped his hand inside and gently massaged Ray’s half-hard cock. Ray gasped into Turnbull’s mouth and pressed against him and Turnbull smiled as Ray hardened even more. Damn, that felt amazing. It wasn’t supposed to feel this good with another guy, was it? Turnbull withdrew his hand and Ray whined, surprising himself. Turnbull pushed Ray’s jeans and underwear down and kicked the clothes aside after Ray stepped out of them._

 _“Beautiful,” he said, looking at Ray appreciatively._

 _“Yeah, on an alien planet, maybe,” Ray replied sarcastically._

 _“To me,” Turnbull said and Ray wasn’t sure how to respond to the desire in Turnbull’s eyes._

 _Ray watched with interest as Turnbull disrobed, his body broader and more solid than his own, though his skin was just as pale. When Turnbull was naked, Ray couldn’t help but look at his fully-erect cock in fascination. It was thicker than Ray’s and a little bit longer and he was surprised that actually seeing it didn’t kill his own desire. In fact, he felt his own cock harden a little more._

 _“Do you want to touch me, Ray?” Turnbull asked, taking a step closer, and Ray swallowed as Turnbull’s cock bobbed._

 _“I – I –” He glanced up at Turnbull. “I don’t know. Where do I touch you, Ren?”_

 _“Wherever you want, Ray. May I kiss you?”_

 _“Um, yeah. Kissing’s good,” Ray replied._

 _Turnbull closed the space between them and pulled Ray flush against him before leaning down and kissing him. Ray’s attention was torn between how great Turnbull’s lips felt on his own and the way Turnbull’s cock was pressing against his own. It was weird, but at the same time felt great as Turnbull shift and the slide of their cocks sent sparks of pleasure through Ray’s groin. Turnbull reached between them with one hand and began gently caressing their cocks. Ray moaned and pressed into his hand._

 _“Yeah, like that,” he murmured into Turnbull’s mouth._

 _Turnbull wrapped his hand around both of their cocks and began stroking them in earnest. Ray broke off the kiss and pressed his forehead against Turnbull’s shoulder as he fucked Turnbull’s hand. It was over far too quickly, with Ray coming first and Turnbull shortly after, come spattering Turnbull’s hand and their stomachs. They didn’t move for a long moment, both taking a chance to catch their breath._

 _“That was – wow,” Ray finally said, straightening and stepping away._

 _“I agree,” Turnbull nodded. He picked up his undershirt and wiped his hand and his stomach. “Shall we take this to the bed? Or have you changed your mind?”_

 _“I’m willing to keep going,” Ray admitted. “But I’m not promising anything.”_

 _“I’m not expecting anything, Ray,” Turnbull replied._

 _Ray pulled back the covers on the bed and they settled on it, turning towards each other. Turnbull leaned in and kissed Ray again, and Ray let him take control and push him back against the bed. Turnbull’s weight above him was more comfortable than he’d expected and he was surprised when Turnbull didn’t push him away as he started to touch and caress him. In fact, he encouraged him with soft moans and pushing back against Ray’s hands while he kissed and licked down along Ray’s throat. And Ray couldn’t believe how much he was enjoying this._

 _He gasped when Turnbull took one of his nipples in his mouth and gently bit it before licking it and then doing the same with the other. None of the women he’d been with had ever done that before. Ray tried to stay quiet as Turnbull continued his way south, but found it hard to contain the soft moans that escaped his mouth, considering Turnbull was taking his time and seemed to find every spot that turned Ray on and used it to his advantage. By the time he reached Ray’s cock, Ray was half-hard again. And very, very interested._

 _Looking up at him, Turnbull said, “You don’t have to keep quiet or still on my account, Ray. I enjoy knowing my partners are enjoying themselves.”_

 _“It’s not you,” Ray said. “I’m just not used to this. I was always the one taking the lead.”_

 _“And now it’s your turn to enjoy,” Turnbull said with a smile, before kissing the crease where Ray’s hip met his thigh and moving back up the bed. “You are enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”_

 _“Oh, yeah,” Ray gasped as Turnbull pressed his cock down against Ray’s._

 _Turnbull gently rocked against Ray, their cocks slowly sliding against each other. Ray gasped again before groaning in the back of his throat and arching against Turnbull. This felt way damn better than he had ever expected. Turnbull hummed in the back of his throat and looked down at Ray with his eyes full of desire and a smile on his lips. And the whole thing got an upgrade to fucking great. Surprising himself, Ray leaned up and nipped at Turnbull’s lower lip. Turnbull let out a huff of a laugh and Ray did it again. Turnbull responded by pressing down harder against Ray and capturing Ray’s mouth with his own. Ray felt something relax inside as they moved together. Suddenly wanting more than the teasing friction that Turnbull had been giving him, Ray put his hands on Turnbull’s ass and pulled him closer and pressed up against him at the same time, expecting Turnbull to pull away instead, but was surprised when Turnbull responded with a groan and pressed hard against him, and Ray could feel every inch of Turnbull’s hard cock against him. It was simultaneously too much and not enough and it was driving Ray insane._

 _“I –” he gasped. “Ren, _please_. I need – I need – _Shit_.” He couldn’t even get a full sentence out._

“I know,” Turnbull replied gently. “This is amazing. _You’re_ amazing, Ray.”

Ray laughed. “ _Right_. Seriously – I need to come or I’m going to go fucking insane.”

Turnbull nodded in agreement and focused on rubbing his cock against Ray’s. Ray did the best he could to keep up, but felt too far gone to be very coordinated. Turnbull came first with a gasp, his head dropping against Ray’s chest. The sudden splatter was enough to push Ray over and he stiffened and came.

After gasping for a few minutes, Ray said, “Wow. I think I could get used to this, if it’s always this good.” Once he’d completely caught his breath before asking, “You don’t hate me, do you?”

“Why would I hate you?” Turnbull asked, clearly confused.

“Because – you know. You took all the initiative here,” Ray said, focusing on wiping his hand on the sheet.

“You reciprocated just fine, Ray, and this isn’t about an exact tit for tat. It’s about going with what feels right and that felt right. We can work up towards you taking more initiative later, if you want. And if you don’t – that’s fine too. Come here.”

He pulled Ray down and kissed him. Reassured, Ray kissed him back gratefully. Settling next to Turnbull in bed, he asked, “So, how’d you know?”

“That I liked other men?” Turnbull clarified. Ray nodded and Turnbull shrugged. “I don’t know. It feels like I always knew – just like I always knew that I also liked girls and that I wanted to be a Mountie. My first experience was in college. He was my roommate and we were both curious – and, I think, a little drunk. That part of our relationship didn’t go anywhere, but we stayed friends. We send letters back and forth every so often and he’s happily married with children.”

They didn’t talk for a while, content to touch and kiss, learning each other’s bodies, and Ray found that he liked it. There wasn’t an expectation with Turnbull that he usually had with women – that there was a certain overall goal. Turnbull just seemed happy with letting things happen however they happened. At some point, they fell asleep – Ray’s arm thrown over Turnbull’s chest and Turnbull’s fingers tangled with Ray’s.

When he awoke, the covers had been pulled up over them, and Turnbull was spooned against his back. He stretched slowly, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time. And, surprisingly, the erection pressing into his back didn’t freak him out.

Ray carefully turned onto his back and saw Turnbull slowly blink his eyes as he woke up. “Good morning,” he said.

“Morning,” Turnbull replied with a shy smile before turning onto his stomach and stretching. “Sleep well?” he asked, turning his head to look at Ray.

“Yeah, you?”

Turnbull nodded. “I did.” He leaned in and kissed Ray softly. “That’s better,” he said, rubbing a hand over Ray’s stomach, brushing against Ray’s morning erection. With a teasing smile, Turnbull curled a hand around Ray’s cock and stroked him slowly.

Ray moaned as pleasure rippled through him and wrapped his hand around Turnbull’s cock and matched his movements. “I could definitely get used to waking up like this.”

Turnbull laughed. “I’m sure we could arrange something,” he said with a smile and tightened his hand.

“Oh!” Ray gasped. “Hold on there, Tiger. I didn’t mean it literally.”

“I know, Ray,” Turnbull replied.

Ray gasped before coming, and a few seconds later, Turnbull came as well.

“Okay, I desperately need a shower,” Ray said after they recovered, moving to get up. “Care to join me?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.

“You do realize it’s a Saturday morning, right, Ray?” Turnbull asked. Glancing at the clock, “And early at that.”

“And here I thought you’d be up and at ‘em at this point in the day – already having run three miles and saving old ladies’ purses.”

Turnbull laughed. “Not _every_ Saturday. Just some of them. So you’re not coming back to bed?”

“Not yet,” Ray replied. “I gotta do something about the way I smell – the morning breath at least.” But it was tempting to forgo all of it for the beautiful tableau in front of him of Turnbull stretched out in his bed, the sheet covering him and yet revealing everything, and his arms flexed, as his hands pillowed his head.

Shaking his head, Ray headed into the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror for a long moment, wondering how the hell he’d gotten here. This was definitely _not_ what he’d expected when he’d gone to ask Turnbull for help. But he couldn’t say he was regretting any of it, even if he never would’ve seen this coming in a million years.

Ray splashed some water on his face and brushed his teeth, then rubbed a damp washcloth over his stomach and cock. Rinsing it, he took it out and, after climbing back into bed, dropped it on a dozing Turnbull’s exposed chest. Turnbull gasped in surprised, eyes opening in shock. Ray laughed and carefully cleaned Turnbull off.

“Mmm, thank you,” Turnbull replied, pulling Ray to him and nuzzling his neck.

“Again?” Ray asked in surprise, dropping the washcloth behind him on the bed.

“It doesn’t have to be right away,” Turnbull said. “We don’t have to be anywhere this morning, so we can take our time.”

Ray rolled his eyes and laughed. “I can’t believe you – underneath all that red serge is a nymphomaniac.”

“Not really,” Turnbull reproached without any real malice. “I simply enjoy being with you. And I’m not a woman.”

Ignoring the last comment, Ray asked, “And when did you start, you know, feeling things for me?”

Turnbull shrugged. “I don’t know. A while ago, I guess – before you and Fraser went on your adventure at any rate. I think it was the lost puppy look. But I figured that you were either hopeless straight or would only have eyes for Fraser like everyone else, so I decided not to bother. What about you?”

“After you showed me how to make that dinner the other night. But it wasn’t even really you, specifically – well, it was, but not completely.” Ray wiped a hand over his face. “I think being with you just made me realize how much I missed having someone in my life and that I enjoyed spending time with you. Last night I think was when it really hit.”

“I didn’t take advantage of you, did I?” Turnbull asked, looking worried.

“Does it look like I was taken advantage of?” Ray asked indignantly. “Believe me – if I didn’t want to do anything, I wouldn’t have and I would’ve kicked you out. We should do something today, since we both have the day off.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. What do people who are in some sort of intimate relationship do in Chicago in December?”

“Christmas shopping,” Turnbull replied seriously, but laughed when Ray hit him on the arm. “So are we a couple? Because I doubt anyone would agree that one night of sex – great as it was – would constitute couple-dom for those involved.”

“I don’t know,” Ray replied. “I just said it because I’m used to being with women – and you look at them the wrong way and they see wedding bells.”

“That’s a low opinion of women, Ray.”

“Not when it’s the truth – at least of the women I’ve dated, Stella included – though she was great. Let’s just say I’m not counting us as a thing out and leave it at that.” Turnbull nodded and Ray said, “Come on, let’s get up.”

Ray pulled Turnbull out of bed and, after a leisurely shower, then a leisurely breakfast, they were out the door. Turnbull took Ray to see some of the sights he’d found while exploring the city. Ray took him to a sushi restaurant for lunch.

“Let me make you dinner,” Turnbull said as they wandered through a park Ray hadn’t even known existed.

“At your place? Or mine?” Ray asked, surprised.

“Your choice,” Turnbull replied. “Though, I do have a better stocked kitchen than you do.”

“Shit, I still owe you money, don’t I?” Ray said, feeling guilty. “I’m really sorry, Ren.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Turnbull replied easily. “You can give it to me on Monday. We’ll get together after work.”

“Okay,” Ray replied. “So let’s go to your place.”

 

As Ray followed Turnbull up the steps to his apartment, he couldn’t help thinking the building looked a lot like Fraser’s original building and he wondered if it was a Mountie thing or just them. The inside of the apartment was clean and the walls were painted a light yellow, making it feel bright even in the middle of December.

“Welcome to my humble home,” Turnbull said. “What would you like for dinner? I have a number of things in my freezer I can easily thaw.”

“Surprise me,” Ray replied. “I’ll eat practically anything – except brussel sprouts.”

“I don’t think there’s anyone who likes brussel sprouts,” Turnbull agreed as he began taking out ingredients.

After an amazing dinner of chicken cacciatore, they snuggled up on the couch and watched curling. Turnbull tried to explain the game to Ray, but finally gave up and got into the game. By the end, Ray was enjoying it, or at least enjoying watching it with Turnbull.

“Want to stay the night?” Turnbull asked, turning off the TV.

“Sure,” Ray replied. “I don’t have to be anywhere tomorrow. How are we going to handle this, Ren?” he asked, following Turnbull into his bedroom.

“Handle what?” Turnbull asked.

“This. Us,” Ray said, gesturing between them.

“How do you want to handle it, Ray?” Turnbull asked.

“I don’t know,” Ray admitted. “This weekend – and this past week – have been great. But I don’t know if I can do this long-term. It would mean a lot of sneaking around. And if something happens to me in the line of duty – and chances are pretty high for that – you’d be S.O.L.”

“I can understand your hesitation, Ray,” Turnbull said, gently rubbing Ray’s upper arms, which Ray took comfort in. “But at the same time, I don’t think we should let it hinder us from seeing where this goes, regardless of what _might_ happen. You didn’t let it with Stella, did you?”

“Well, no,” Ray frowned. “But things with her were different – considering she was a woman.”

“Obviously,” Turnbull replied with a smile. “Honestly, I try not to think about that sort of thing – considering one of us could get hit by a bus tomorrow or something like that. Let’s take it slow and see how things go, okay? If, after a while, you still feel this way, we’ll break it off and there’ll be no hard feelings.”

“Okay,” Ray replied. “No sex tonight, okay?”

“Not a problem,” Turnbull replied.

They both stripped and settled into bed, Turnbull pulling Ray to him almost immediately. Ray was surprised that he enjoyed that position. It felt good to be the one who was being protected for once, and he easily fell asleep.

The next day was spent holed up in Turnbull’s apartment having a lazy Sunday. They read the paper and Turnbull made french toast for brunch. Then, for dinner, he taught Ray how to roast a chicken, to Ray’s pleasure.

“It feels weird going through with it now, but tomorrow I’m going to ask Fraser over to cook for him,” Ray said as they were cleaning up. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Why would I mind?” Turnbull asked. “I knew you were going to do this before we got together and I know that you have no designs on him. If you did, though, that would be a different story.”

“Definitely no worries there,” Ray replied. “I just don’t want things getting weird between us – especially when they’re starting.”

“I doubt you have anything to worry about, Ray,” Turnbull said. “As before, I wish you all the best with it. And I’ll still want all the details.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Ray replied. “But I’m still, you know, worried how he’s going to take it.”

“Knowing Fraser, he’ll take it very well and in the spirit it was meant. Now, let’s talk about something else.”

 

Monday morning, Ray entered the bullpen with a grin. He didn’t think life could get any better than this.

“Have you seen Fraser yet?” he asked Frannie.

“Yeah, I think he’s in the janitor’s closet with Ray,” she replied, not looking up from the report she was typing.

“Thanks, Frannie,” Ray replied, heading to the janitor’s closet.

Opening the door, expecting them to be going over a case, Ray was surprised to find Fraser and Vecchio kissing passionately. They quickly broke off the kiss and looked at him in surprise.

“Oh, uh, um, never mind,” he stammered, quickly shutting the door and heading to his desk. He carefully didn’t look at them, when Vecchio and Fraser went to Vecchio’s desk a moment later.

When Turnbull called him that afternoon to see how things went, Ray said, “Yeah, about that – I didn’t actually ask him. Something came up and I didn’t get a chance. I’ll have to find another time to do it.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that, Ray,” Turnbull told him. “You put a lot of work into this.”

“I’m not sorry – it got me you, didn’t it? Which is far better. See you later, Ren?”

“Of course, Ray.”

Ray hung up the phone with a smile. Maybe it was better this way.


End file.
